Frank? I would recognize his red hair and lanky stature anywhere. Enzo cast me a glance but I quickly looked away from Antonio’s former lover before Enzo followed my gaze. What was Frank doing here? He should know better than to crawl through the house of a mob member, especially the Outfit Boss. But then again, Frank probably didn’t know what Dante was, unless Antonio had revealed more to his mistress than I knew.
I tried to maintain a passive expression as we drove down the driveway, but I wasn’t sure I could. Enzo had definitely sensed that something was wrong and kept looking my way. “Thanks for picking me up,” I said and got out of the car as soon as we pulled into the garage. Once inside the house, I went upstairs to one of the guest rooms overlooking the street, but when I peeked out the window, Frank was already gone.
I had to find a way to contact him to find out what he wanted . But how?
I was no longer to leave the house unattended.
And I didn’t even know where Frank lived, but I had a feeling he would soon reappear. There must be something he needed to talk to me about. What if he wanted to blackmail me?
Great, now Dante’s manipulation was making me paranoid.
The next time Frank was around I would simply have to find a way to sneak out of the house and talk to him.
A knock made me jolt. The door was ajar and Gaby peeped in. “Dinner is ready,” she said shyly. “Mr.
Cavallaro is waiting for you.”
“Couldn’t he tell me himself?” Gaby blushed. “I’m sorry. He sent me to get you.”
I touched her shoulder as I walked past her. “Don’t worry.
I’m not blaming you.”
She followed a few steps behind me as we descended the stairs. Before entering the living room, I turned to her. “You don’t have to follow me. We can walk side by side, Gaby.
She nodded before disappearing through the door that led to the staff area. With a sigh I entered the living room. Dante was sitting in his usual place at the end of the table. I crossed the living area and headed toward him.
My plate was placed at the other end of the table as on other evenings. Somehow this made me unreasonably angry today. I stopped beside my chair but did not sit down. “Why should I sit so far away from you?”
Dante raised an eyebrow. “Are you angry?”
“Of course I’m angry. I don’t want to eat meals as if we were strangers. You never try to keep so much distance between us when you fuck me.” That word made my skin crawl with discomfort, but I stood firm.
Dante’s eyes narrowed slightly, always so cold and calculating. “It wasn’t me who insisted that we have sex. If I remember correctly, you were pretty adamant about it.”
I couldn’t believe he was acting like he didn’t like it. Maybe I was inexperienced, but I knew he had a great time. I took the plate and cutlery and brought them next to Dante where I sat them down with a little too much force, rattling them loudly. I let myself fall back in my chair, then glared at Dante.
“Please tell Zita to set the table like this from now on.”
“If that’s what you want,” he said indifferently.
Zita entered and I did not have a chance to say anything else . Her eyes went from Dante to me and a smile crossed her face. I really wanted to scream. She set down our plates. Homemade sweet potato dumplings, sage butter and veal cutlets. She took her sweet time before departing.
I stabbed a dumpling and popped it in my mouth, then almost sighed because it was so delicious, but I didn’t want Dante to think that I had already outgrown my anger at him.
Dante cut his calf unhurriedly. My eyes caught his strong hands, remembering how they felt on my skin and hating myself for wanting to feel them again, despite his frustrating behavior.
“How was the visit with your parents?” asked Dante finally . He sounded so blase that I could not even consider the question as an attempt to make up for his rudeness.
“Didn’t my father report to you?”
Dante put a piece of veal in his mouth before looking up at me. “We talk business during our meetings,” he said, then a little more cuttingly. “I don’t know why you act like a petulant child. If I had wanted a wife to do this, then I would have chosen Gianna.
I dropped my fork with a clangour. “Then maybe you should ask her. I’m going to marry Matteo. At least I hear he’s not a cold fish.
“Cold fish, huh? Is that what people call me?”
“They call you many things, but that’s the most accurate description of your character I’ve found so far.”
“So are you interested in Matteo?”
“Excuse me?” The sudden question puzzled me.
“You danced with him at our wedding and you seemed to be having more fun than usual.”
“Are you jealous of Matteo?”
“I’m not jealous, no. I am simply trying to protect what is mine.”
That sounded a lot like jealousy to me. “I don’t even know why you care. You don’t seem interested in me outside the bedroom, and that was also initiated by me, as you so helpfully pointed out. Right now, I think you’d probably give me one of your cold looks if you ever found me in bed with Matthew, and then go back to work. I wasn’t even sure why Matteo was a topic. I had never been interested in him. He had always been too unpredictable for my taste.
“I would go back to work, yes,” he said with a predatory smile.
“After gutting Matteo and watching him bleed to death.”
He took a sip of his white wine.
I gave up. Obviously it was not possible to talk to Dante as husband and wife. We consumed the rest of dinner in silence, interrupted only by the scrape of our knives on the plates and the occasional thud as we set our glasses down on the table.
*** I was half asleep when Dante entered the bed. The mattress lowered and then his warm body pressed against me.
I did not move. Dante shook my hair off my back and gave me a warm kiss on my neck, then followed by a gentle bite. I was happy to lie on my stomach and be able to stifle the gasp in the pillow. I didn’t want him to know how much his touch affected me, how much my body craved his care. I was still angry with him for his words during dinner, but my body had a mind of its own.
Dante did not seem too put off by my insensitivity. He ran his tongue over my shoulder blade, then along the bumps of my spine until the nightgown was in his way. He came back up and sucked the skin above my pulse point into his mouth, then left soft kisses down to my ear. He moved even closer so I could feel his erection through the fabric of his pajama pants. It took all my self-control not to reach out and curl my fingers around his erection. His breath was warm against my ear as he licked my earlobe, making me shiver with desire.
He grazed my neck with his knuckles, then moved lower until he reached the hollow above my butt. My breathing was getting faster and I could feel my panties sticking to the center from excitement, but I still didn’t move. This time I would not be the one to initiate anything.
Dante slid his hand down my bottom before diving between my legs. He groaned when his fingers grazed my panties.
It took all my willpower not to press against his hand for a little friction. His mouth found my ear. “I know you’re ignoring me, but you should learn to control your body if you want to succeed.”
The infuriating bastard.
Dante sat up and lifted my nightgown before slipping his fingers under the waistband of my panties and sliding them down my legs. I lifted my face from the pillow and peered over my shoulder. It was too dark in the room to discern anything. The silver moonlight filtering through the windows cast Dante into the shadows, but I was certain he was watching me. Then his hands returned to me. He massaged my calves, slowly moving up higher. His breathing was deep and calm in the darkness. He slid his hand between my legs and pushed them apart. I buried my face in the pillow again when his fingers found my folds and began stroking my clitoris. He shifted and then his lips were on my bottom. He lightly bit my cheek, then soothed the area with his tongue and lips. I almost came just then. Instead I sank my teeth into my bottom lip to hold on longer. It was too good to end so soon. Dante repeated the movements until he was up to my throat and I was a pile of boneless desire.
I spread my legs even wider for him, not caring that only a few hours earlier I had sworn to myself to ignore him until he stopped treating me with cold detachment outside the bedroom, but as he massaged my clit the need took over my reasoning. He spread my wetness, then slid two fingers inside me. I arched my butt to give him better access to my opening. He began to move his fingers in and out slowly as his lips continued to caress my throat and shoulder, always alternating between nibbling, licking and kissing.
He was panting, too. This was affecting him. I moved my hand to the bulge in his pants and started rubbing it on the fabric. He emitted a harsh sigh into my ear.
“Every moment of the day I think about the things I want to do with you, I catch myself remembering your taste, your smell.
Sometimes I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t bury myself in you.”
I whimpered. Why couldn’t he show me during the day? Why did he have to act like I was just a needy wife? He pushed his fingers faster inside me and I moved my hips against them, wanting him deeper. He hit a soft spot deep inside me; fire licked my belly and heart, making me cry out as pleasure surged through me. Dante kept pumping inside me as I desperately lifted my hips, riding the waves of my orgasm. I collapsed against the mattress, without enough energy to keep my butt elevated. Dante’s fingers were still buried inside me, but they moved slowly, almost tenderly in and out of me.
I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heartbeat, but Dante had other plans. He shifted and a rustle of clothes could be heard, then he came back next to me. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I want to feel your hot mouth again.”
I shivered. I turned and leaned back on my elbows. In the shadows I could see Dante’s silhouette as he knelt on the bed beside me. His cock was inches from my face, long and hard, waiting for me. Dante slipped his hands into my hair and gently pushed me closer to his erection. He smelled clean, soapy, spicy and fresh. His erection brushed my lips, I opened them and took him in my mouth, savoring the salty taste of the pre-sperm on his tip. It increased my arousal. The man from the ice was eager for me. I swirled my tongue around his cock, then plunged the tip into the small slit in his head. Dante’s fingers in my hair tightened as he made a sound from deep in his throat. His grip was painless and strangely erotic. Dante slowly pushed himself into me, and I took him deeper and deeper into my mouth until I almost threw up, then let him slide out completely. Soon Dante seemed to want to take control of the situation and began to thrust in and out of my mouth at first slowly, then faster.
His hand in my hair held me steady as he took my mouth.
I hummed in approval. It was much hotter than I could have imagined. Having Dante fuck my mouth, having him on top of me, guiding my head as he wanted, was a great turn-on , and I began to move my pussy against the sheets, hoping for some friction.
Dante’s hand came down on my butt, holding it still.
“Don’t do that,” he said roughly, cupping my cheek. I made a sound of protest, although it was difficult with his cock in my mouth.
Dante pulled out suddenly, hissing when my teeth grazed his cock. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it under my pelvis. Then he was behind me. He grabbed my buttocks and his tip flicked my opening. “Fuck me. You are so wet, Valentina. Without warning, he hit me completely , filling me completely. I gasped, arching as pleasure and a trickle of pain coursed through me. Dante paused for a moment as he massaged my butt and lower back. He lowered himself until he pressed his chest against my back, pinning me under his weight. He rested his elbows on either side of me. I could feel every inch of him. I could not have moved even if I had wanted to. I tilted my head to the side and found Dante’s lips for an intense kiss. He slid out slowly until only the tip remained inside me before re-entering me. Soon he established a fast, hard rhythm. Each thrust of his cock made my nipples slide on the sheets, making me wince from the added friction. His balls slapped my folds, sending lightning bolts of pleasure down to my clit.
Dante’s pants came faster. His chest was slippery against my back. The sound of his thighs hitting my butt with each thrust filled the darkness and mingled with my desperate moans and whimpers as I slid toward my second orgasm. I tried to hold him back, but Dante slipped his hand under me and ran his thumb over my clit. “Come for me,” he whispered in my ear.
I shattered as pleasure swept over me in a torrent. Dante lifted himself up on his arm and really began to hit me , harder and faster than ever before. I clawed at the sheets. He clamped his hands on my hips and lifted my butt higher as he thrust into me, his fingers sinking almost painfully into my skin. I sank my teeth into the pillow as I felt the insidious signs of another orgasm coursing through me.
Dante thrust into me hard and let out a low moan, his fingers straining against my hips. His erection expanded in my channel as he poured into me and the fire in my belly raged through my body as I fell over the edge again.
Dante collapsed on top of me, leaving me open-mouthed kisses on my shoulder and neck as he whispered words in a voice too low for me to hear. I closed my eyes as my chest tried to get out of my ribcage. I probably would have felt sore the next day , but it had been worth it. I didn’t even care anymore that I had broken my promise to myself. Why should I deprive myself of a good moment to punish Dante? I would only punish myself.
Dante was getting heavy. I turned my head, hoping to breathe easier that way. I could have asked him to come down to me, but I knew that the moment I did, he would turn away again as he always did . I wanted to savor our closeness a little longer, even if it meant being crushed by his weight. He felt hot and strong, and pressed so it was hard to tell where his body began and mine ended.
Dante raised his head and our lips met for another kiss, languid and unhurried, almost sweet, but then he pulled away from me. I turned so I was facing him. He was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. It was too dark to make out his expression. I approached him carefully and laid my head on his chest. He stiffened and I braced myself for his rejection. My body stiffened in anticipation of the rebuke, but it never came. He relaxed, put an arm around my shoulders, and I finally dared to curl up closer to him. I drew a deep breath savoring his warm scent that was becoming more and more familiar; it was mixed with the musky aroma of sex. My hand went to his stomach and I stroked it lightly. Was it the darkness that made him more accessible? Did that make him forget who he was, who he wanted to be?